


Saturday

by Lyledebeast



Category: Cloud Atlas (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Male Homosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frobisher is stubborn and Sixsmith is grumpy.  They reach a compromise and enjoy it in somewhat different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to forbiddenarchives for wonderful, thorough beta-ing!
> 
> I realize this diverges from canon quite a bit: sorry, not sorry. I hope I've kept the essentials: Frobisher and Sixsmith's names, their work, their height difference.

Usually, Rufus Sixsmith loves living with someone who is as committed to work as himself. When both partners in a relationship stay as busy as he and Robert Frobisher, neither has time to feel neglected, and neither requires the other to keep them entertained. A typical Saturday finds Frobisher at the piano working on his latest arrangement and Sixsmith on the couch with his laptop and a pile of notes from experiments conducted during the week, enjoying each other’s presence without feeling any need to speak.This would be just such a Saturday, if Frobisher weren’t falling asleep on the keys.

Clang  
“Robert, are you alright?”  
“Fine, Sixsmith,” he replies drowsily. “I just dozed off.”  
“So I heard. Did you get any sleep last night? I don’t recall you clawing your way underneath me at 3:30 in the morning, like you usually do.”

Rather than replying, Frobisher begins playing again, softly and slowly. Almost as soon as Sixsmith becomes accustomed enough to the soothing melody to start working again, he hears it a second time.  
Clang  
“Robert!”  
“I’m sorry, Sixsmith. I keep putting myself to sleep.”  
“Anyone else would take that as a sign, Robert. Maybe you’ll work better if you actually get some sleep. Did you drink the coffee I brought you?”

Again, Frobisher doesn’t reply, so Sixsmith walks across the length of the living room to where Frobisher is sitting and finds a cup of black coffee on the table next to the piano, completely untouched and ice-cold. Sixsmith takes a hard look at his lover, noticing his drooping eyelids. “Honestly, Robert, if you’re too tired to drink something to make you less tired, you really should go to bed.”  
“This score won’t write itself, Sixsmith.”  
“Neither will you if you keep falling asleep every five minutes. Think of how much better you’ll feel if you have a lie-down.” 

Too tired to come up with a wittier response, Frobisher simply says, “No.”  
“Think how much more inspired you’ll be”  
“No.”  
“Think how much more productive I’ll be.”  
“No.”

Sixsmith realizes the need to switch tactics. He wouldn’t normally use sex to get what he wants, but he has recently discovered something Frobisher wants terribly, but is apprehensive about asking for because he doesn’t think Sixsmith enjoys it as much.  
“Robert.”  
“What?”  
“If you’ll lie down for a couple of hours and let me work on adding my notes to this article, I’ll let you top me when you wake up.”  
For the first time that morning, Frobisher lifts his head and looks at Sixsmith, his eyes fully open and gleaming, with a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  
“You’re cruel, Sixsmith.”  
“I know,” Sixsmith smiles back.  
“Cruel and desperate. Are you sure this article means that much to you? Is it really worth such a sacrifice?”  
“Come on, Robert. You know it isn’t that.”  
“And yet you’re using it as a bargaining tool.”  
Sixsmith slides down onto the bench next to Frobisher, leaning down to kiss him gently on the ear and whisper, “You know I’m only doing that because I know you can’t say no.”

Frobisher smiles and stands up, taking hold of Sixsmith’s hand and pulling him up as well. “I’ll go to bed, but you’re coming with me. If I leave you out here typing away on that laptop, you’ll be so far into stats and findings by the time I wake up that I won’t be able to pull you away no matter what bribe I use. And I don’t intend to waste this opportunity.”

 

When they reach the bedroom, Frobisher begins pulling his thin cotton shirt over his head, but Sixsmith grabs the hem of it, stopping him.  
“What’s this, Sixsmith? You know I sleep better naked.”  
“I know, and that’s all well and good at 3:30 in the morning when you’ve woken me up with your bony elbows and those long, freezing feet and I don’t care how good you look. If I have to watch you strip while I’m awake, though, I think we both know this nap won’t happen.”  
“Well, if you mean you’ll be fully awake in every sense of the word, maybe we . . .”  
“Just take your trousers off and go to sleep, Robert.”  
Frobisher grins and does as he’s told. “So testy today. Maybe you need sleep more than I do.”

Truthfully, Sixsmith hadn’t slept well last night either. Eight months ago, he never would’ve thought he could get so used to sharing a bed with another person, but now it takes him much longer to fall asleep without Frobisher’s slender, lithe body pressed against him. He’s out almost as soon as he settles down under the covers with Frobisher’s head on his shoulder and Frobisher’s arm wrapped around his waist. 

Two hours later, he awakens with a start to the feeling of Frobisher kissing the back of his neck.  
“Ah!” he gasps. “What? What time is it Robert? I didn’t mean to sleep this long.”  
Sixsmith attempts to turn around in Frobisher’s arms to look at the clock on the nightstand, but Frobisher has the advantage of having been awake longer. He places a hand on Sixsmith’s chest over his vest and presses him down against the bed.

“What’s the hurry, Sixsmith? Are we forgetting something?”  
Then Sixsmith remembers, and almost immediately tenses up. Talking about bottoming is one thing; actually doing it is quite another. Even though this is something they’ve done several times, he’s still a bit daunted by the prospect of opening his body so intimately to another person. Frobisher senses his hesitation and leans down to press a gentle kiss to his lips before resting his head next to Sixsmith’s on the pillow.  
“It isn’t that late. We still have plenty of Saturday left to work, if that’s what you want. And there’s always tomorrow, if we don’t feel like it. We might even go back to sleep afterwards.”  
“Well someone’s certainly feeling better. Didn’t I tell you getting some sleep would help?”  
Frobisher kisses him again, this time lingering and lightly flicking his tongue against Sixsmith’s lips. “Oh, Sixsmith. We’re both going to feel much, much better soon.”

Frobisher kisses Sixsmith slowly at first, giving him a chance to fully wake up. Soon, however, Sixsmith opens his mouth encouragingly, and Frobisher’s kisses become more insistent and creative. Soon, Sixsmith is moaning softly and burying his fingers in Frobisher’s hair. When he begins to tug a little too hard, Frobisher sits up.  
“Easy, Sixsmith. You won’t like me bald.”  
“Please. I couldn’t make you bald if I tried. I’ve never seen a man with so much hair just on his head.”  
“Unlike you, dear Sixsmith. You have hair evenly distributed all over your body. You’re like bedding a werewolf.”  
Sixsmith chuckles at the exaggeration as Frobisher, as if to demonstrate, pulls Sixsmith’s vest off over his head and nuzzels the soft patch of light hair at the center of his chest. Sixsmith lifts his head to watch as Frobisher kisses down the thin trail of hair that divides his torso in half, his body relaxing with the familiar pleasure. 

Really, Sixsmith thinks to himself, Robert is a wonderful lover: patient and attentive as well as skilled. As much as Sixsmith enjoys being the beneficiary of all Frobisher’s sexual experience, he feels a little intimidated by it as well. When his relationship with Frobisher first became sexual, Sixsmith was frequently embarrassed by how quickly he became overwhelmed under his ministrations. The first time he brought Frobisher home, he orgasmed just from rubbing his erection against the other man’s through both of their clothes, and he did not do so quietly. Afterwards, while jerking himself off, completely unruffled, Frobisher simply said, “It’s nothing to worry about. It happens.” He never scolded or laughed at Sixsmith for coming fast, but there was always a hint of something insufferably smug about his expression. It was not until he decided to try bottoming that Sixsmith got to enjoy the power of making someone else come undone for himself.

He tries to keep the memory of this power at the forefront of his mind as Frobisher pulls his pants down his legs and then stands beside the bed to strip off his own pants and shirt. Once he’s naked, he retrieves the bottle of lube from the bedside table and kneels between Sixsmith’s legs. The sight of the lube always causes Sixsmith’s chest to tighten with worry just a bit. When he first began to entertain the idea of bottoming for Frobisher, he had experimented with fingering himself, an extremely uncomfortable process that he had quickly abandoned and which left him wondering how anyone could enjoy this. Frobisher had tried not to smile when Sixsmith told him later, seeing how embarrassed his lover was, but he didn’t entirely succeed.  
“Did you use enough lube, love”  
“I should think so, enough to make a big mess, certainly.”  
“And did you massage your sphincter until it relaxed, or did you just shove straight in?”  
Sixsmith had struggled to find a reply that wasn’t thoroughly humiliating, but had ended up taking such a big gulp of his tea that it resulted in a coughing fit. Frobisher had laughed then, and said, “Well, that explains a lot, baby. You have to use a bit of delicacy.” It turned out that it was much more pleasant to have Frobisher open him up, but the bottle still puts him in mind of the discomfort that came from being stretched open on his own fingers. 

Frobisher seems to realise this, because he sets the bottle down on the bed just behind Sixsmith’s thigh so that it isn’t visible. Placing his open palms on Sixsmith’s hips, he rubs down the insides of his thighs and back up, gradually spreading his legs until Sixsmith’s cock takes interest and begins to swell. They both know his anxiety about being penetrated will keep him from getting fully hard beforehand, but Frobisher tries to ease the preparation with as much pleasure as possible. He slips his hand underneath Sixsmith’s scrotum and smiles when his hips jerk up towards him and his head presses back against the mattress. He has learned quickly that Sixsmith’s balls are incredibly sensitive and that Sixsmith loves to be touched there. He groans loudly as Frobisher massages his scrotum with one hand, carefully lifting it and stroking his perineum and arsehole with the fingertips of his other hand.

Sixsmith whines with displeasure when Frobisher takes both hands away and coats two fingers with lube from the bottle. “Are you ready, love?” he asks. Sixsmith nods, willing this part to be over as soon as possible. Neither of them enjoy the preparation much: Frobisher has had enough experience on the other end to know how uncomfortable it can be. He eases one finger in and massages the muscles inside Sixsmith until he feels some of the tension subside around it. Though he moves slowly, when he adds another finger Sixsmith hisses at the burning sensation and inches backwards towards the head of the bed. “Shh, love, just relax,” Frobisher coos, moving his hand to his hip to both soothe him and hold him in place. 

Sixsmith focuses on his lover’s face, seeing the concern clearly written there. The stretching always gives him second thoughts, and it is a relief to know that Frobisher is willing to stop if Sixsmith so desires. Fortunately, now he knows that the worst part is almost over, and the reward will be well worth a little bit of discomfort. “I think I’m ready for another finger now,” he says. Frobisher sighs with relief, and complies.

With three fingers moving inside him, Sixsmith turns his mind to Frobisher’s cock, and finds himself looking forward to the moment when he has it inside him instead. Having so much contact with this part of his lover has only increased his affection for it. It is small, slender, and eager, much like Frobisher himself. Sixsmith loves to take the entirety of it into his mouth and suck until it spasms with bliss, or hold Frobisher down with one hand on his chest and lightly stroke it with the other until he whimpers and begs for more friction. Most of all, he enjoys the flush of ecstasy that washes over Frobisher’s face when he feels the heat of Sixsmith’s body surrounding his cock. In anticipation of that sight, Sixsmith clenches around the fingers inside him. Even that is enough to make Frobisher’s head snap up and his mouth fall open.

“God, Sixsmith.”  
“Do you like that? Imagine how much better it will feel on a somewhat more sensitive part.”  
While Frobisher’s smile is full of bravado, Sixsmith feels his fingers tremble slightly inside him.  
“Anyone would think you wanted me to hurry, Sixsmith.”  
“Well, I do have other things to do today, Robert.”

When Frobisher reaches up to the head of the bed to get one of the pillows, Sixsmith can’t resist the opportunity to stroke down the front of his lover’s body and wrap his hand around his fully hard cock. Frobisher gasps and tightly clutches the pillow in his hands, forgetting what he intended to do with it. Sixsmith releases him long enough to pour some lube on his palm before he returns it to stroke up and down as Frobisher moans. Sixsmith’s palm is almost as wide as his lover’s cock is long, so with just little flicks of his wrist he can cover the entire organ, creating wonderful friction against his corona that leaves Frobisher throbbing.

“Enough,” Frobisher’s voice is ragged. “I’ll finish before we start at this rate.” Sixsmith smirks and lies on his back, putting the pillow Frobisher has picked up underneath his hips. Frobisher stretches up to kiss Sixsmith deeply, then slides back down the bed to lie between his legs, pressing his tip against his lover’s arsehole. When Frobisher looks up, Sixsmith nods his encouragement, and he presses inside slowly. Sixsmith hisses when he’s breached, but he enjoys the feeling of Frobisher’s cock more than his fingers. His fingers aren’t nearly so hot and they don’t jerk with excitement inside him either. He looks up at Frobisher’s face and notices that his eyes are closed tight and he’s trembling with the tension of holding still when he wants so badly to thrust into Sixsmith.

Sixsmith doesn’t even try to suppress his grin; this part has not changed much. The first time Frobisher entered him in this way, it had felt so strange that Sixsmith almost made him stop, in spite of the thorough preparation beforehand. However, the fact that Frobisher had not been inside another person in this way in so long, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t done so without the added barrier of a condom for as long as he could remember, left him so overwhelmed that he had climaxed after only a handful of thrusts, without enough time to even warn Sixsmith of what was about to happen. Afterwards, even Frobisher had to admit there were some perks to monogamy. Sixsmith’s first thought after that experience, which he was kind enough not to share with his lover, was that if he’d known it would only take that long, he’d have let Frobisher fuck him months ago.

Now, Sixsmith is more aware of the power he wields, so he has mercy on Frobisher: “It’s okay, love. You can move now.” Frobisher tries to keep his thrusts shallow and careful at first, but as Sixsmith begins to murmur praise and endearments, and covers his lower back with his long hands, he gives in to his need for a faster pace and is soon snapping his hips forward so hard that he’s pushing Sixsmith’s much larger body back and forth against the mattress. Sixsmith is always amazed by Frobisher’s strength, and by the fact that, once his body has accepted the intrusion, he can take the harder thrusting fairly easily. He thinks that, with more practice, and greater effort on both their parts, he could actually come with Frobisher inside him: something his lover has mentioned a couple of times that he badly wants. For now, though, Sixsmith delights in Frobisher’s reaction as he squeezes the muscles around his cock.

“Fuck, Sixsmith. Oh fuck, that’s gorgeous. So tight.” It takes more time for Frobisher to orgasm now, but Sixsmith has learned to enjoy the challenge of spurring him on by contracting and releasing again and again. In a few minutes, Frobisher gasps, “Ohh. So close. Please keep doing that. That’s so, so . . . oh God, Sixsmith.” When he ducks his head down into Sixsmith’s chest, he knows it won’t be long. Sixsmith loves seeing the look of wrecked bliss on his lover’s face when he comes, but Frobisher always tries to hide it. 

“Come on, love. Look at me,” he purrs, burying his fingers in the back of Frobisher’s hair.  
“I can’t.”  
“Yes you can. Now.”  
“I.”  
“Now.”  
Sixsmith tightens his fingers in Frobisher’s hair and pulls his head back just as Frobisher’s orgasm hits, the tension on his scalp only serving to make the waves of pleasure washing over his body even more intense, turning his cries into a full-on scream.

Sixsmith stares up at him in shock--he’s never been this loud before--as Frobisher shudders from head to toe for a few moments and collapses on top of him, panting. As soon as he is able to compose himself, he mutters into Sixsmith’s chest.

“What’s that, love?”  
“You pulled my hair, you great big brute.”  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
“You didn’t, and you are most certainly not sorry.”  
Frobisher tilts his head just enough to let Sixsmith see his smile.  
“Did I scream? You know, when I came.”  
Sixsmith considers this for a moment: “No.”  
“Liar.”  
“Well . . . not that loud.”  
Frobisher chuckles and kisses Sixsmith’s chest. “God, I love fucking you. Thank you. Did it hurt this time?”  
“No, not really. The beginning is still the worst part. And the clean up, of course.”

Frobisher lifts himself off of Sixsmith and turns around, noticing the damp patch spreading on the bed between his lover’s legs. He shrugs.  
“Well, we can’t have everything in this life, Sixsmith. You can’t drive me mad with pleasure and expect me to have the foresight to pull out and come on your belly.”  
“I’m not sure I don’t prefer this way, actually. Gives me an excuse to just lie here; no rush to wipe up the mess.”  
“Well, since, you’ve been so good today, I have a treat in store for you. I’ll clean up around you. Then, I’ll suck you off, and clean up again. You just relax and think about the changes you want to make to that article.”  
“What article?”  
“Now there’s the Sixsmith I love.”

Sixsmith smiles, feeling warmth spread through him, as he does every time Frobisher says he loves him, even in play. As Frobisher moves off the bed towards the bathroom, Sixsmith suddenly remembers:  
“Don’t you have to work on your piece this afternoon?”  
“Why would I do that when I have all night to work on it?”  
Sixsmith covers his face in his hand and sighs. “Do you do this just to aggravate me?”  
Frobisher walks back to Sixsmith and kisses him.  
“If this is the way you punish me for aggravating you, you should expect me to do it every day going forward.”


End file.
